Extreme beauty: Vanessa Wilde's secret diary

In which Vanessa discovers she has tipped the scales and decides to fight the flab

God! And I thought dieting was for other people. I’ve never, ever worried about my weight. I may be curvy, but I’ve never been overweight. I’ve always been easily under — well, just under — nine stone, and a lot of that is my amazing bosom. My boobs must weigh several pounds, which are extra inches I most definitely want. And I’ve always said that what matters is how I look, not how my bathroom scales look. Then, suddenly, last week, I went over nine stone, and rising. I can’t bear it. I always thought that obsessing about weight was for wimps and fatties. How wrong can you be? And why now? After all these years of pigging out on whatever. I stood there in the bathroom on Tuesday night practically crying. I can’t bear to think about the F word — fortysomething. That can’t be the reason, can it?